Deductive Reasoning
by C'est Elise
Summary: Ever wonder what the world of Harry Potter would be like if there weren't so many... idiotic prats? If some of the most important characters had a little deductive reasoning or some critical thinking skills?
1. The Boy Who Lived

A/N: Feeling that love-hate frustration with JK we all do, I suddenly had an epiphany. The HP universe if there weren't so many dumbasses! Or, perhaps if Harry weren't a dumbass. I do not know. I shall see. Some will be blessed with the ability to not be a dumbass (Harry)... some will be left with that trait, as they wouldn't be themselves without it (Dumbledore).

Dear Lord. I have stumbled upon something magnificent. So, there you have it. My Author's Note.

I'm done now.

Disclaimer: Really now. I'm not making any money and you know it.

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**Chapter One: The Boy Who Lived**

Mr. And Mrs. Dursley were quite proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were not involved with anything shady or suspicious and they were not the sort of people to hold with nonsense, because it was just ridiculous and no good ever came out of it.

Mr. Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills. He was a big, beefy man, but with the diet his wife had put him on he might not be forever. Mrs. Dursley, who was the only person Mr. Dursley would ever allow to interfere with his eating habits, was herself tall and thin and only followed the diet so as not to tempt her husband. After all, eating steak and eggs in front of Vernon while he had to force down a grapefruit wasn't very fair, and neither of them wanted to get angry and disrupt their baby Dudley, who already had a temper problem and trouble sleeping.

One Tuesday afternoon, the Dursleys awoke to another perfectly normal day. Mrs. Dursley fed the baby while Mr. Dursley got ready for work. As he left for another day's honest labor, she entertained little Dudley, who would grow up to be their shining star, and nothing else seemed out of the ordinary.

That was, until Vernon left Grunnings on his lunch break and started to see strange things. He saw an owl fly overhead- in the middle of the day! Then, there were the people in the streets, wearing capes and pointed hats as though it were still Halloween! One of the men was his age, even- and running around with a bunch of teenagers!

"Ridiculous!" Vernon hissed to himself, jumping when two of the men turned and looked at him, surprised.

"What did you say, old chap?"

"_Old?_" Vernon swelled angrily. "Why, you're every bit as old as I am!"

"Much older, actually." The old man smiled. "But today I feel so young! Good sir, even someone so rude as yourself couldn't disrupt my mood! For it's happened! He's gone! You-Know-Who is gone and even you should be happy!" With that, the man leapt into the air and clicked his heels together, shouting happily. His companions all nodded and laughed in agreement. They seemed oblivious to the stares.

"Freaks." Vernon hissed under his breath, turning and returning to Grunnings on an empty stomach. These people just made him lose his appetite.

When he returned home, things were only a little better. He saw a cat sitting on his front porch and the damn thing wouldn't leave no matter how he tried to shoo it. Eventually, he gave up and headed inside, joining his wife and son in a family viewing of the evening news.

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A man appeared on Privet Drive, dressed very strangely in a bright blue cloak and high-heeled, buckled boots. His robes were purple underneath, clashing very horribly. His long silver beard reached his waist and his hair was, if possible, even longer. As he pulled something small and silver out of his pocket and began to capture the lights along the street without a second thought, the cat sitting on the Dursley's front porch ran and leapt onto the garden wall, apparently waiting for the man to arrive.

As the man turned and stepped onto the Dursley's property, the cat turned, transforming suddenly from a tabby cat to a stern looking woman wearing square spectacles. Before the man could open his mouth, the woman began to speak.

"Albus," she hissed, looking around them. "Do you _realize_ what you're about to do? These people, they- they're absolutely not the type of people to raise a young wizard!"

"My dear McGonagall-"

"No Albus,_ listen_ to me, please! They abhor anything unusual, _anything _strange- they would treat the boy as though he had the plague!"

"Professor, I _know_."

She looked scandalized. "And you're going to leave Harry with them? Where he'll grow up alienated, alone?"

"What else would you have me do, professor?"

She threw her hands into the air. "Anything, Albus! Why can't the boy live with a wizarding family? The Weasleys- they've been known to adopt orphaned young witches and wizards for centuries! The Bones'- a perfectly average wizarding family. Or even the boy's irresponsible, skirt-chasing godfather!"

Dumbledore sighed, shaking his head. "None of those are feasible options, Minerva. The boy must be left here for his own protection."

"Albus, Harry is only a baby, and he defeated- or at least, caused the defeat- of the Dark Lord. I hardly think there is anything else to protect him from! If we leave him with a responsible family, he will be protected from any stray Death Eaters looking for revenge!"

"Minerva, we do not know where the Dark Lord is, but we know that he is not_ dead_ in the full sense of the word. He has simply been defeated. There is a chance he could come back-"

"-And these muggles can protect him?" At his nod, she became even more incredulous. "How, Albus?"

"Blood magic, Minerva. They're the only family he has left, and as long as he calls this place home, he will be safe from Voldemort or any who wish him harm."

The professor seemed to deflate. She opened her mouth, but couldn't come up with an argument. "I suppose... that is justification."

"Do not worry, my dear professor. I have written them a letter that will explain everything, and they can tell young Harry whenever he is older."

Before McGonagall could question the effectiveness of a letter, a low rumble broke the night silence. It grew steadily as the two watched the skies in anticipation.

A flying motorcycle easily twice the size of a normal motorcycle arrived in the driveway of Number Four. The figure astride it, a tall, muscled young man who looked to be barely an adult, swung off with a basket in one hand. He set the basket down, pulled his long hair behind his head into a rubber band, and turned to the house, wiping his face with his sleeve.

"Professor." His voice broke like that of a scared child's, reaching out for help. "I- I brought Harry. He's fine, except... for a s-slash across his f-forehead." He stepped forward and handed the basket reluctantly to the older wizard.

"Thank you, Sirius." Dumbledore turned and set the basket down on the porch step, pulling the blanket off of the child to look at the cut. Professor McGonagall laid her hand empathetically on the young man's shoulder, surprised when he suddenly turned and hugged her for dear life.

"Professor- please- I- I don't know what to do!" He began to sob forcefully. "James- James- James and Lily- they-"

"Sirius, it's alright." She hugged the man tighter, trying not to tear up herself. "And it's _Minerva_, you silly child."

He laughed- although it sounded more like a cough- and turned toward professor Dumbledore. He sucked in a breath, trying to calm himself down. "Professor- please. I want to take care of Harry."

Dumbledore lowered his head. "I am sorry, Sirius-"

"It's what James and Lily wanted!" His voice came out as a loud wail.

"Harry must stay here for his own good, Sirius! It is the only way!"

Sirius's face turned hard behind the tears. "This isn't the way it was supposed to happen, Dumbledore."

The professor shook his head. "I know, Sirius. I know."

Sirius looked as though he wanted to say something more, but changed his mind. "Fine." He turned back to his motorcycle. "I'm _going_, then."

There seemed to be more purpose behind his words than either of the professors could understand. As he kicked the motorcycle to life and took off, a sense of foreboding came over them both.

"Where is he going, Albus?"

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A/N: I don't know why, but this would not get out of my head. And I promise it didn't take time away from IYWH, because I wrote this in like an hour (can you tell .) I might come back and put in some filler, but nothing important.


	2. The Vanishing Glass

A/N: Laa dee dah. So apparently nobody likes this story. Guess what though? I'm still going to write it because I WANT TO. Reviews are nice, yes, but a lack thereof will not stop me from writing.

Disclaimer: Writing this story has made me rich I tell you! Rich!... ahem. I mean, I own none of it.

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**Chapter Two: The Vanishing Glass**

Nearly ten years had passed since the Dursleys had woken up to find their nephew on the front step, and their world had changed forever. Although the sun still rose and set on the same house, which itself stayed as immaculately clean as before that day, the Dursley's lives were different than they had expected.

For one, they were raising not only their son Dudley, but his cousin, Harry Potter, who was left on their doorstep with naught but a letter. Petunia had been angry, distraught and confused, and Vernon had just been angry. If it had not been for a stiff-looking woman who appeared the morning after, explaining the situation in greater detail and giving them a book on raising magical children- "Raising Your Young Wizard Properly: An Instructional For Muggles"- they would have been utterly lost and probably have wound up dropping the boy off at an orphanage.

As it was, Harry had grown up with limited, but essential knowledge of what he was and could do. He knew that he might someday get a letter to go to a secret school for wizards, that he shouldn't try to make things happen just because, and that he shouldn't use his special powers to hurt Dudley or anyone else. In fact, his aunt had told him he shouldn't use them at all, or he might get in trouble. He knew that his mum and dad had died because of a big secret wizard war going on, and that somehow, he was a part of it, and that he was probably very well known in the secret world. His aunt had told him it might be strange to be famous, but he shouldn't let it inflate his head. When he pressed for more details, she told him he had to wait until he got his letter.

Harry was just waking and making his bed, while Dudley was in the shower, preparing for his birthday, which was always a day full of presents and fun. Petunia was downstairs cooking happily while Vernon read the morning paper. Everyone in the house knew the day would be a fine one.

At the zoo, Harry and Dudley enjoyed themselves even though it was blisteringly hot. Halfway through the day, after watching orangutans fight, wild cats lie about, and birds with clipped wings do a whole lot of nothing, they decided to head to the reptile house before eating lunch. It was, thankfully, cool in the reptile house, and dark. The walls were lined with lit windows. Harry headed to the first one on the right while Dudley headed left, where an employee was feeding a large, angry looking snake a live rat.

Harry examined the first snake he saw, a yellow, red and black one. It looked to be asleep, and the sign above it said "_North American Coral Snake_". Harry wondered if snakes were supposed to sleep all day, or if zoo-snakes were just bored to death.

Turning quickly to make sure no one could see, Harry leaned close to the glass and whispered, "_Are you awake?_"

The snake's head rose immediately. He looked closely at Harry, flicking out his tongue. He was long and slender and on his head were rather large scales, at least for his size. He seemed to examine Harry for a moment before he replied.

"_Why do you speak to me, strange one? You are not of my kind_."

Harry grinned. "_I just wanted to see how you were. Is it rather lonely here?_"

The snake rose up, looking angry, though not at Harry. "_This place is horrible. I am forced to eat rats and have only one place for a nest, and no where to go to hide from scary things..._"

"_Don't you like to eat rats?_" Harry looked around again to make sure no one was watching.

The snake hissed. "_Disgusting. I only eat them when I have to_."

"_What would you like to eat then?_"

He flicked his tongue out. "_I prefer small garden snakes. They are easier prey, much easier on me, and much tastier_."

Harry tried not to look disgusted. "_Isn't that cannibalism?_" He wondered if that word would translate.

"_I know not of what you speak_."

Harry sighed. "_Never mind_." He glanced up at the plaque, which was not very informative. "_Are you dangerous?_"

The snake rose up proudly, leaning back. "_Oh, yes, young human. Do not underestimate me because I am small. Do you wish to eat me?_" Before Harry could answer, the snake continued. "_You will never get the chance, if you try. If you ever come close enough, I could strike upon you in an instant and fill you with death._" The snake lowered itself, suddenly looking... sullen. "_If I were free, you could never get to me, human. I long to bury in the soil, to hide, and stay cool..._"

Harry looked up at the plaque again, which did say the Coral snake preferred to live underground. The encasement, however, did not have very much soil. "_I am sorry for your home._" He tried to say 'problem', but there didn't seem to be a word for it. "_Is there anything I can do?_"

The snake looked up at him. "_You are gifted, young human_."

"_You know?_" Harry was only a little surprised the snake would know this. He was, after all, talking to it.

The snake nodded, a strange thing to see. "_Young human, let me out, and I will escape, always to be free._"

Harry hesitated. "_Will you bite anybody?_"

"_Not unless they threaten me. If they come too close, or try to hurt me, I will._"

Harry looked around one last time. He knew what he was going to do was stupid, but it didn't seem fair that this snake was so unhappy because some zoo people didn't know what they were doing. So, with some trepidation, Harry turned his back to the glass and pretended to watch the feeding across the room. He closed his eyes and willed the glass to go away.

'Disappear.' He thought desperately. 'Go away. Go away, if only for a moment. Please, please, do it! Do it now! _Now!_'

Suddenly, he felt a cold touch on the back of his ankle. He knew without looking it was the snake.

"_I thank you, young human, by allowing you to leave my presence alive_."

Shuddering, Harry walked forward toward his aunt and uncle, turning and jumping in false surprise as a terrified scream came from across the way.

"Snake! Good God, _**SNAKE**_!"

As they watched, the snake slid out of the front opening and into some nearby foliage. An employee closed the door and hit a button on a nearby wall. "If everyone would please follow me to the emergency exit, thank you..."

Petunia grabbed Harry's hand with her left and Dudley's with her right, following the crowd, her face tight with feat and worry. Harry felt guilty for a moment, wondering what sort of thoughts were going through his aunt's head.

Really, though, he was glad he hadn't been caught. He was only ten, he reasoned to himself, and he never did anything bad before. Besides, the snake will be happy now.

Satisfied with his logic, Harry quietly did as his aunt told him, trying his best to 'make it up for Dudley that the trip had been ruined.' Really, Dudley thought it was all brilliant, and had become bored with the zoo anyway, and was glad for an excuse to leave.

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